


Just Come Back

by thatisnotokay



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: AU where Wirt doesn't make it to Greg in time, a little bit of an alternate ending about how they got home as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 20:08:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2594864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatisnotokay/pseuds/thatisnotokay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wirt makes it to Greg in time to get him out of the Edelwood tree, but not in time to save him from the cold. Regardless, he takes Greg back home. Wirt deals with the events.</p><p>(More so than not just a drabble on Wirt's state after he returns home.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Come Back

**Author's Note:**

> 1) I'm sorry.  
> 2) It's not gonna be the best, it's late and I'm tired  
> 3) About the alt ending, they did climb thru the lake (I revised a bit) but the search party wasn't like, /right there/, so Wirt had to walk a bit  
> 4) I'm a horrible person

A clarinet laid untouched in its case, as it had been for the last several weeks. The curtains were drawn shut and were starting to gather dust on the soft fabric. Papers were strewn all over, torn and marked up after angry pens and pencils came in contact with the fragile material after a particularly upsetting poetry attempt. Mentioned pens and pencils were littered across the floor, the pencils all splintered into halves. A broken mirror stood against the wall. If it were even used, the tape player only played childish songs. Each of the titles on the tapes were messily labelled "Greg". Another plate of uneaten food sat on the desk by the wall. 

A dirty tea pot sat at the end of the unmade bed. Wirt spent hours staring at it. The only time he'd touch it was when his heart felt empty and tears soaked his cheeks in the middle of the night, when he couldn't sleep. Nightmares of screaming his little brother's name haunted him almost every night.

If only he'd been faster. If only he ran faster, if only he didn't slip on the ice then... He would have made it.

It was all his fault. Wirt knew that. He couldn't say it back then, even though he'd known. He just needed someone to blame, someone to shoulder the guilt for him, and Greg was the only other one there besides Beatrice.

And he'd told him countless times. "All of this is your fault!" he'd said. Over and over. "It's all your fault. It's all your fault I'm a horrible brother. It's all your fault I didn't watch after you better. It's all your fault that I didn't care enough. It's all your fault."

He regretted everything. Every moment he raised his voice at the younger boy. Every single time he said a mean word. Every single time he ignored him. Not being able to apologize to him in time. 

Wirt leaned his head back against his pillow. He stared at his ceiling. Beside him, his phone was vibrating constantly. He knew it was either his mom calling him down for a meal, his friends, or Sara asking how he's doing. They had done nothing but call him and text him since he got home.

Since he got home with his dead brother in his arms. 

Wirt squeezed his eyes shut as he remembered breaking the branches off of Greg. He had been talking to him, confessing all on his mind. It wasn't until after Greg was free from the vicious Edelwood branches that Wirt realized that he wasn't breathing. He didn't even hear the Beast's words as he tried to just wake him up, "please, Greg, tell me a rock fact, sing me a stupid song, anything, please", wake him up so they could go home together.

He couldn't do anything but drag Greg of the water and carry the boy on his back. And every time he thought he felt a shiver or heard a cough, he'd drop to his knees and check for breathing. Every single time, there was nothing. Wirt felt his heart get heavier with every glance at Greg's face. He eventually put his soaked, pointed hat over Greg's head, pushing it over his eyes, "to keep his ears warm". 

He hugged his shoulders as he remembered the moment they were found. His legs were weak and shaking horribly and his teeth were clicking together so hard he'd thought they'd break. His lips and tongue were so cold and numb that it took him six tries to say "help Greg" to the search party that found them. The last thing he remembered of that time was his face touching snow after he fell, Greg heavy on his back.

He had woken up a few days later, warm under white sheets and comfortable against a white pillow, safe in the local hospital. His mom and stepdad were on one side of him, Sara on the other side.

"Where's Greg?" were his first words. He didn't like his answer, and spent the next three hours switching between hysterical crying and apologizing non-stop to the little boy that nobody could see.

Now, five weeks after their 'trip', he was back at home. His mom let him stay there, not wanting to admit that she didn't want him to leave the house. Not after she already lost one of her boys.

"All thanks to me," Wirt whispered to himself, clutching Greg's rock in his hands. It had fallen out of Greg's hand when Wirt was cutting the branches away. He had picked it up without thinking. He held it up to stare at it's painted face.

"Wirt's an foul, repulsive, and outright detestable big brother who doesn't deserve a perfect little brother like Greg. And that's a rock fact." Wirt's voice broke as he mimicked his little brother's cheerful voice. He couldn't even do that right.

Wirt let the rock fall weakly onto the bed, rolling over and smothering it under his torso. His eyes burned with tears and his body shook with each broken hiccup. He eventually grew tired enough to sleep, his cheek pressing against a pillow soaked with salty tears.

After an uncomfortable nap, Wirt woke up and sat upright in his bed. His side was bruised due to sleeping on the rock. He pulled it out from under him and stared at it with heavy eyes, and realized yet again that the entire ordeal wasn't just a dream. The guilt returned and he curled in on himself, burying his face into his knees. He wanted a do over more than anything.

"Please... just come back. I'll be a good brother, I promise. Just come back."


End file.
